finder’s reward

When I'm making up a song, I keep an ear to the ground for what people cast off. An overheard remark in a train station, the half-sentences of friends workshopping love’s particulars in the local coffee shop: They’re the finder’s reward. I listen in like an ecclesiastic to the human heart as it bares its splendor and its brokenness. I listen, and write. And as I write, I …

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